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^ Jittmirg N eioapopet; to ^griciittitrc, aui> ti^tncral 3 n tc ( if g l^ r
W«F. &€r. A BALDWIN, Proprietors. "■ - - HENRI WARD, & d ito r.-^ fe rjn s -^ * $ l'J^ l^«r AnngqiJ
V O LUM E a - -N O . 12. L IT C H F IE L D , (C O N N .) S E P tE M B E R 13. 1849. W H O L E NO; H 6
* ■f
Business €ari>0.
V. R PALMER,
SUBSCRIPTION AND ADVERTISING
•If m iadelphia. New York, Baltmore
and Bosttm.
TfiLEGBAFfl OFFICE,
OF THK
a a tf T t. T e lc s ra p lil.in e .
^IMftwwiiatftoK KBt It all i»m of the Union,
^»*FIC|P AT BALDWliys’ V ariktf SydHE,
LITCHFIELD. CONN.
0 I . !^ £ !R a . G. TO DD ,
vflLttomey & Counsellor a t I*aw,
/V i r ^ C E asXt building >onth of the Mansion
\ / Hooae, up stairt.
JbMfUM, April 5th, 184S. 1^ 42
THGODORE KELLOGG,
dlbtlweey i t Ooansellor a t L aw ,
KENT, CONN. 10
HENRY I. FU IiliiSR,
Jk ttom e y Sl C o u n se llo r a t La-A
iMiaaw nf IWdi for N. y, fifatJ
Sotith Kent, Conn.
E Q R S E W . P E
p n t iW T T
P = »
St n nw a e g l lw
N o ta ry P u b lic ,
fa the (H&ce «T Wilthim I . Borrall, Esq.,
South Canaan, Ct.
■*r-'
R A N D A I i & B E L D E N ,
4 ^ t ; to n i e T S C o u n s e l l o r s a t JL .aw ,
S^ltltnrs in Chancery, Lsnd Agents, &e.
T o x r <Mall ftitenil {ironiptly to ali~business en-trusti^
l to tlieir mnn.igcnienr.
Milwa»kk, iViscoiism, Dec. l'2th, 1846.
B o s t w i c k , M . D ^
ANO SORfiEON.
^ / \ifiPlC'Eovei Bolln8’&Wells’*tone,i»i the rooms
V *^y Ov. J. S. Wolcott. 50
^ 43. e i S S E L L , M . D . ,
p f « i a n a n d S u r ^ ^ e o n
i i e f h l e m ^ C t.
P . P . HUMPHREY, M. D,
PHYSICIAN & SURGEON,
FitUs Village, Conn.
E D W A R D W . B L A K E ,
S ID FN T D EN T IST .
r m n
OFF/Q^ A FEW DOORS WEST OF THE
. COUNTY BOUSE.
&ci/ield, June 27, 1849. t
Poetrn.
•t .■
C. M. HOOKER,
M S B e ^ T O N T IS T
AY be cnnsulted a t a l l t im e s , (unless
profeseionailv absent,) ai. hi* OFFICE
~ “THE VARIETY STORE.-
field, April 3,1849. 41
J . DAYTON,
K A » tJ » A C T U R K R o r
SKAPfllNES & MELODEONS,
WOLCOTTVILLE, CT.
N. T5.—Orjnns, and Piano Fortesf
''Houed a;id
9,1819. 46tf
A. & CHAPIN, Agent,
»R B o o k s and STATIONARY, at the
C n A P PuBiicATioiT Dbpot & G en-
^x. A^arvr Orricx,*^ io TrumbuU’a buikU
the Qfee,
Mbtmhiry, 'Cmm. 48-Sm
Boob, Petioclieals, fte.
9tib«criber continues to supply by exprew
J , otfaemi«e, aU«rdeni for Booka, P^i
Music, fee., addresced to him,
'it j lf i street, New York. He fUmishes
‘'^Viat$||pi|iR uf Standard Works, and the latest
I of the (iay ,from which, aelectionscan
i io witich he will annex the prices at
<^iicii be vili sop^y t! em. fblvcli time and labor,
MHpi bjr jwrcbaaers, who are assured that
- - •**« Publishers’ loteest rates.
‘ 1 io u usual, with prompt-
«• well as tndi-to
th « r interest
H a y d n ’s G r a n d O r a t o r i o o f t i a e
C r e a t i o n .
Versi^ed,
BT H. WARD.
IN THREE PABTH.
PART I.
RAFHAEl..
In i t e be^nning, from Chaotic Night,
Almighty God brought heaTcn and earth to
light,-
And e arth no form, nor shape, nor b e au tj
knew.
And a ll was void, and awful darkess threw
A horrid gloom o’e r all the boundless space.
Thick horrors rolling o’e r the deep’s dark facc.
l_CH0RC7S,
With wings of more than silver light.
The Holy Spirit urged His flight,
^*®**i^nd moved serenely on the d e ep :
Goa spake the word ; “ Let Light appear,”
And Light arose the gloom to cheer.
And break Creation’s leaden sleep.
TTRICl..
God saw the Light, so radiant to the view.
And all was good^ and then a line He drew
Between the videly circling realm of Light,
And region of the still dark-frewning Night.
And now before the holy beams on high.
The gloomy, dismal shades of darkness fly;
The first-born blush of rosy Day app e a rs ;
Disorder yields, and Order rules the spheres.
Hell’s spirits dark, in te r ro r fled away.
Before tne glorious beaming of the D a y ;
In countless throngs they sink with wild af­fright.
Down in the deep abyss of endless Night.
CHORUS.
V u n their shrieks of mad despair.
Vain the horrid oaths they dare.
Vain the fiendish rage th at fires
All their impotent desires,
In their rapid fall below,
To the realms of endless wo.
At Jehovah’s gre a t command.
Bright with water, fair with land.
Lovely, beautiful and new.
RAPHAEL.
And God the blue expanse Of E the r made.
And all the upper firmament Purveyed,
And caused the waters th a t above it
To separate from those th a t rolled below.
The mighty work was done. Outrageous storms
Anon arose in all their dreadful forms.
As chaff before the winds, the clouds a rc driv’n.
The sky is reddened by the fires of heav’n ;
On high, the awful thunders roll around.
Now from the clouds, descending to the ground.
Reviving showers of misty rain appear.
And balmy fragrance breathes o’er all the
sphere.
Now falls the cold, the dreary, w^isting hail.
And light and flaky snow, while earth grows
pale.
GABRIEL AND CHORUS.
The Heavenly Host,
In wonder lost,
The matchless work, in glory, view;
Their Maker’s praise
They loudly raise
To jo n ethereal vault of blue.
That rolls the sound.
With joy around.
And hymns the glories bright.
The Second Day
Does thus display.
To our enraptured sight.
RAPHAEL.
And God commanded from His Throne on high:
Let the wide waters underneath the sky.
Together flow to one appointed place.
And all between the intervening space.
Let the dry land appear ; and l o ! ’twasdone
And all the land beneath the blazing Sun,
God called the E a r th ; and all the vast expansa
Of waters, rolled together a t His glanise.
He called the Seas. God saw both land and
flood.
And all beneath His holy eye was good.
RAFHAEL.— CHORUS.
In foaming billows rolling high,
Tbc stormy sea, uplifted, roars.
And mountains tow’ringto the ^ y .
And rocks, emerge along the shores.
Now in the clouds their peaks a s c e n i ;
Through open plains outstretching wide.
The rivers flow through many a bend.
While softly purling streamlets glide.
Through silent vales of living g reen.
They flow so calm, and bright and c l e a r -
A milder joy pervades the scene.
And gentle music soothes the ear.
GABRIEL.—CHORUS.
Now clothed in robes of smiling green.
The fields delight the^rapturing scene ; '
The flowers so sweet, so gay and bright
Enchant the more than charming sight.
Hero fragrant herbs their sweets ^ h a le .
And perfume every passing gale ;
There healing plants adorn the p la in ;
None grow for naught, none bloom in vain..
The fruit-trees hang their branches low ,.
As laden with their fruits, they glow.
While vaulted ’mid the cooling glades,
The tufted groves disclose th e ir shades.
And on the tow’ring mountain’s brow.
The sturdy forests thickly grow.
And seem to mingle every hue.
At distance with yon clouds of blue.
URIEL.
Then all the Heav’nly Choirs in one loud lay,
Proolaiiaed the vronders of the Third gre at
D ay ;
They struck their golden harps with joy again.
And thus prolonged through Heaven the cho­ra
l stra in :
CHORUS.
Awake the harp of praise, ^
Awake the tuneful lyre !
In shouts of joy y o u r voices raise.
Ye blest, immortal Choir.
In triumph sing the power
Of our Almighty Lord !
Let Heaven and Earth*His name adore.
Who clothed them with His Word.
URIEL.
And God moreover said: Let lights arise
In all the firmament of heavenly skies.
To separate the day from silent night.
Arid on the earth to shed a radiant l ig h t ;
And lot them-be for signs and circling spheres
To m ark the seasons, and for days and y e a r s ;
And all the bright and twinkling stars that
shine.
He made, to teach His glorious power divine.
URIEL.
Now from the East, in splendor bright a r ­rayed.
The Sun comes forth, and. drives away the
shade.
And far through E th e r darts his golden rays ;
Great * King of D a y !’ how glorious is his blaze !
How does he joy to ru n his measured round
Through heaven’s high road, with ceaseless
lustre crowned !
With beams of softer, milder light, the Moon,
In.silver brightness, when the day is done,
>«gli BilffBt n i^ t ,r . .‘r r tie cobMIs^
host
ferrors of revjp|atiphs. It is au interest of
this latter which draws us to the
Of shining orbs, ’mid seas of splendor lost.
Adorn the vast and boundless space on high.
That forms the azure, bright-bespangled sky.
The Sons of God His Fourth Day’s work pro­claim.
In songs divine, through all ‘ the s ta r ry frame.’
CHORUS.
The Heavens are telling the glory divine.
Of God our Creator ; the wonders th a t shine
grave of Hurli a jj|ace not soon to be for­gotten;
far disitant times will vis­it
it; .and moiiyfizd upon the fate of him
who ehchants S. It wm be known and
frequented whe!^ the mausoleums of good
men hay$ cruijlbled to dust, and their pla­ces
ate known4Ko tnore.
Weenvy tiqk the man who caii unmoved
gaze upon thoigrtfve of Col. Hiirr. It is
one of the mest desolate places that we
have ever seen. There is uo inounient,
pile, or sculpttj^d" marble, standing over it,
to evince the |espect or affliction of a sin­gle
living sout Not even a rough, un­hewn
stone n i^ s the bead or the foot of
him who such sway over the
minds and f«i^ngs of men. Wild grass
and poisonousjleeds form the sod that partly
covers him. Ube rest of the suriace of the
grave is sterile, clay, yielding no verdant
plant or shrubi 'f he stranger treads upon
the spot regar^ it not until he is told that
he stands overithe remains of Burr.
How change^ the scene when from this
unmarked spell we turn to the sleeping
place of the fgtiier of Burr. Over it there
is no tovveribg monument, but there is a
massive tomb 9 one, on which are engraved
the. deeds of ^ e loved and honored. Presi­dent
of New J^sey College. The grave of
the son is oal# designated by Jts being at
the foot of thejather’s. ^
Immediate!J[to the left of President Burr
is the tomb 0® onathan Edward-s. “ Sec-undiis
neminVmortalium” is written on it,
and no one < jnversant with the life and
chal’acter of thi nian, would erase the charac­teristic
inscri|^ion. Still afterward in reg­ular
order ar4 the tombs of Samuel Davis,
Samuel Finlfj',' John Witherspoon, and
Stanhope Stiiiih—each loved in life, lamen­ted
in death, ^ d embalmed in the memory
of a gratefiit ^sterity.
The pro.\imity of Col. Burr to those
loved and duttinguished men, renders his
fate still mot^ melanchoUy. Their unfor-gotten
virtuei makes his vices seem ten-fold
more vicious||
They shuf “o u t the few good deeds o f h is
life, which might u n d e r Other circumstances,
palliate his b |d ones.
, As the ■igsitor stands over the grave,
many scenes in the checkered and ex’entful
life of Burr^ crowd upon his recollection.—
He rememeters the 6 th of February, 1756,
when Burr ^ s t saw that light through which
■fnB8Irect5rt*^Mal led-hfm-to-se-many dfleds
of woe. He calls to mind the death of both
his parents, while the boy was only three
years old ; the handsome fortune that was
bequeathed an orphan son ; the fourth year,
abscondance from his preceptor when too
he was a child of four years growth ; he
ran away from Mr. Edwards for the purpose
of going to sea, while he was inhis eleveuta
year ; and the entrance of Princeton Col-
, lege at the early age of' twelve, where he
Through all His blest works that enchant and graduated at the age of sixteen, taking the
The beautiful firmament brightly displays.
T h e Y o u t b o f C t t r i s f .
A youth appears “ sitting in the midst of
the doctora, both hearing them and asking
questions. All that heard him were aston­ished
at his uiiderstanding and answers.”—
He Comes into the assembly of venerable
sages with a mild and pensive countenance
that seems haunted with earnest thought.—
He is no favorite of earthly fortune, no sci­on
of aristocratic pride, no pet of exclusive
schools, but the simple child of the unsophis­ticated
people steeped to the lips in suffer­ing
; and yet, mightier than the domes that
benti above him. he is for the intellect and
heart of mafl a glorious living temple, built
with the choicest riches of unnumbered
worlds. The first question he propounds
startles ihe attention of all who hear him,
and creates the greatest astonishment in the
most profound, for bis words bear that
charm of immaculate wisdom that can nei­ther
be defaced nor excelled. (Questions
succeed to questions, and learning in des­pair
grows more confused in this, the grand­est
gladiatorship of mind yet witnessed on
earth. Sage after sage, swells with wound­ed
pride and veixation is silenced before
that youth appareled in the plain attire of a
peasant life, radiant with the celestial fire
that emanates from an-aspiring heart, and
bent on throwing open wide the gates of in­struction
to alt. The whole park of artil­lery
which power a*d craft have erected on
their contracted citadels he has spiked, and
like “ a mailed angel on a battle day,” he
rejoices in triumph, not for himself, but for
the sakes of the benighted multitudes
aroti nd. Free thought and fre e discussion
then and there'were born !
GABRIEL, URIEL AND RAPHAEL.
Day unto day the power of speech prolongs.
Night unto night sends forth harmonious songs.
That teach high knowledge; and the word re­sounds
O’e r all the lands, to e arth’s remotest bounds.
Ne’er unperce-ved, but ever understood.
I t speaks the glory and the power of God.
CHORUS.
The Heavens are telling the glory divine.
Of God our Creator ; the wonders th a t shine
Through all His blest works th a t enchant and
amaze.
The beautiful firmament brightly displays.
\End of Part l.J
4lHi0tellonn.
t t o n ,
Y*rk.
- ■i; to
W^Mer Skrained Lam^’OfT,
1 1 ^ quRlUiefc ^
GABRIEL.
And God again commanded : Let the' E a r th
Bring forth the g ra s s ; the herb th a t springs
H e r seed bestowing ; a n d th e f ru i t - t i^ s crown’d
With flruits th a t after their own k ind abound,
seeds are in themselves. All Nature
■ ImMvA, ■
^adk>S throu|^ earth herisndless stores ap4
From the Louisville Journal.
t b e G rav e o f A aron B u r r .
But a few moments have elapsed since
we were standing in ths Princeton Ceme­tery,
giazing on the grave of Col. Aaron
Burr. The last resting place of this dis­tinguished
man impressed us with the
truth, that Ihen impart their own charac­ter
and their own immortality to spots of
earth. There are few places of no more
geographical extent, which call up so many
reflectious, so many associations, so many
recollections.
We know that a saihctity which nothing
can destroy ox justly profane* invests those
places which have been charged with the
ashes of the great and good. But great­ness
and goodness have not always been
united in those men whose names cannot
know oblivion, and whose influence c ^
never cease to be felt. The deeds of the
wicked are as iniperishable as the deeds of
the righteous. A mysterious influence, as
strong as that whiclw binds us the sepul­chres
of the benefactors of mankind, ptten
attracts us to the graves of the jgreat ene­mies
of civil society.
The infliience,. however, is not the saine
in the two cases. It is only siinilar m
strength. We remember with delight the
seasons whose coming has filled the earth
with plenty ; and the principles whose de­velopment
has built up happy coninmni*
ties. But we treasure in b u r * memories,
Vwitb scarce_ le^ interest, the ravages w
^ u in s o f >tiamftdoM, ,and the;
honors of his class, in spite of his moral
character, that evoked much disapprobation.
He reflects upon him as a volunteer in the
American revolution, and a soldiei in the
celebrated expedition oPArnold to Quebw
as an aid to Gen. Putnam, and a conferee
of the title of lieutenant colonel. He follows
him to the study of the law and admittance to
the Albany bar in 1782; to the Senate 1791,
and to second place in high ^ft of the
American people in 1801. He beholds
him the destroyer of Hamilton ; the mise­rable
litigant at the New York bar,; the
reveller in in tolerable licentiousness ; the
intended established of an empire beyond
the great father of rivers, of which he was
to be emperor^ and the C City the
great Capital.- He sees^,^f e ^ l ^ ^ ^ be­fore
the tribunal of his c^^p^^^^pcquit-ted
for want' of that overt-pypo^«hich his
own far stretching cnnning^a^^iveloped
in impenetrable clouds. Aind .fi:nally, he
follows hint from Staten Island, where in
4 oz
iijx
1 qr
yi.r.
C b o l e r a S p e c i f i c s .
We scarcely pick up a paper that does
not contain some pretended new discovery
of preventives or cures of cholera. Many
of them, it may be, are good—but others
are worse than nothing, and the public
ought to be on their guard against them.—
The following, which has been handed to
us, (no matter by whom.) is a good.burlesque
upon some of the pretended specifics.—
We suppcse the recipe, is genuine, coming
as it does from Dr. Lithesplinctumnoncajum
of this place.
RECIPE.
Trton cahiahuooecalhepahe,
Shawnemowetosshawewaughcat,
T okeawechacata,
Tataquaguew*kxquevicosi,
, "Watecvedarijpsuslsoimphikvitus,
'^]\lix well in an ordinary hominy mortar,
and boil 3 days in 4 barrels of water.. Dose
for .an adult, 1 quart every 15 minutes unj
til relieved ; children under ten years of
age, half dose.
A Man B uried A uve !—A painful oc­currence
came to light yesterday, says the
Baltimore Clipper, which created intense
excitement:
“ The remains of the venerable D.-^v-ans
Beese, who died suddenly on Erida^
evening, were conveyed to the Light street
burying-ground, and while they were being
placed in the vault, the hand of ^.lyuuaii
being was discovered protruding.fcpllii poe
of the coffin deposited th^'.
examination, t j^ e pres^nFwere startledrtd
f i^ ^ e hand nrmly • "cleiushed, the'c^ffiii-burst
open and the body tg
over, leaving not.a doiibt tharfhe uhfc^|^
nate i)eing had been buried alii^|^^: * ^
The corpse was that of a resectable man
who died apparently very ^ddenly, and
whose body was placed in the^vault on the
Friday before. It was a harrowing tho’t,
to suppose that he was buried before life
was extinct, but facts leave very little doubt
of it. Truly this is a sad commentary on
hasty burials.
T l i e C i t y o f R o m e .
Rome is siill where it has beea-for more
than 2600 years ; it is upon the Tiber.
16 mile from its mouth, whi^ runs south
the westerern part of the city, and then
turns west, and continues that course to its
outlet, where it is some three hundred feet
wide. Much of what was formerly cbvered
with buildings is now cultivated. This is
particularly the case with much of the south
part within the city walls, and east and
south of the Capitoline Hill. B«d air
(malaria) is said to be the caos& of the deser­tion
of this part of tjb*idty. Thewcient
hills are still to be, foaad» but ara by no
means .so prominent as they ooce were, on
account of the valleys having been filled up
by the rubbish constantly accttmulating in
this way, the plac» of the ancient-fornim
has filled up at least fifteen feet. The land
at the base of the Tarpeian ro ck is sq muck
filled up that the modtiu traveler |s prone to
think that it would be far from certain
death to be thrown from its top. In the
northeast p r t are extensive gardens, and on
the west side of them are the residences of
the English and Americans.
The.palace of the Pope is near the center
of the city. The church of St. Peters is
on the west side ; it is 750 feet long, and
556 wide, and will hold 25,000 people.—
It cost $50,000,000. The statue of St.
Peter stands not far distant. It was for­merly
a staiite of Jupiter, and was changed
by one of the early Popes into that; of the
apostle by some my sterious power, without
changing its material snbstanace in the least
which gave rige to theremsark of the wag
that it was formerly the statue of Jupiter
and it is that of Jew Peter still. The report
that the great toe of this statue js entirely
torn away by the lips of the CathoHcs is
not entirely true. It is a. Fiotestant slan­der.
Yet it is true thatthe repeated kisses
of the faithful for hundreds of y ears have
worn it away considerably. N o Catholic
passes it without stopping to kiss it. To
see poor ignorant people do so, that is bad
enough; but to see men oPlearning and .
science, and of cultivated mindr, like the
Pope and Cardinals constantly appros
ing this image with all r e v e r ed , anc"
ping this toe with their hai "
it, wipe it again, and go on tKSr
beyond endurance.
R ailkoao Accident.—On Monday af­ternoon,
the 12 o’clock train from New
York met i*jth a serious accident abotiC two
liufeT
suddenly thrown off the track, and aft the
cars but one were dragged off after it and
thrlcwn off the embankment wla^ was sevj
eral feet high. '
The accident happened at a i^rt-curve.
The Conductor, expecting another train to
arrive about that time, went forward some
three-fourths of a mile to meet it and warn
it of the accident. He found in several
places at short curves, pieces of tinther se­cure^}
fixed along the track, evidently fo#^
the Mrpose of throwing the ears o ff! The
villir^i who placed the timbers there is ^uiU
ty o f the many murders his diabolical wick^
edness was calculated to cause.
1836, he closed his miserable career, to the?
cemtery at Princeton to be interred with
the honors of war, and to moulder in tfe
dust, upon which the curses of injlsedvi^ae
and the rewards of vicious ambitionsa^^o
rest forever. ■
The life, the death, and the grave of Col.
Burr carry their own moral. The simple
facts tell a tale that needs no comment.-—
Words need not iiiform os, th^t genius, how­ever
transcendent, unless tirtue be one of
its eluents, cannot attain eminence on
which ad" 'Unclouded sun will forever
beam.
A Girl in Troosers.—A bright, bux­om
lass, named Margai«t Richards, from
the village of Rondout last May, who was
a little beyond “ sweet sixteen,** and domi­ciliated
in’the house of Mr. Edward Nixon,
this village, was “ fouud absent,” last
Attrociods Murder at Owego, N. Y .
Yesterday,” (Sunday before last.) says
’the~^inghampton Republican, “ -about 3 o'-
'^ ck , p. m., an Irishman by the name of
7 ^ 1^-i-— , was killed by^ ^'man„ named
0 * ^ , at C^a~?^afia, about h d f a
^ t e s
^ id in ft toasting ia«aMr tKii ^ would
'kill the first A
few minutes a fte rw a^ t S * p 6wed earn#
up, when Giles 7
feet long and felled Mm to ttkewth.
is probably dead before this. Q te|, witli m.
companion ^ywed Bush, fled to. t||B
but were arrested soon after the.nsaii^^f’
a proclamation by the Sheriff! Giles Kve<l
at or near Owego and was probably intoxi>
cated at the time.
S uicide.— The following is an anecdote
of Or. Johnson : —
Boswell once asked Johnson if there was
no posible circumstance under which suicide
would be justifiable.
“ No.” w ^ the reply.
« WelM’ says Boswell, “ suppose a man
•^ad bee^ guilty of some fraujJ that he was
equally iertain woWd be found out.”
“ Why, then,” says Johnson, in thatcase
let him go to some country whe^ he is noW
^nown, and not to the devil wKsre he is
known.” - j
Q:;^ A drunken laborer, recovering from
a dan^rous illness, was asked whether he
had not b e^ afraid of meeting bis God ?
v,No,^said tife poor pagan Christian, “ I was
only o’ t’ other tdiap”
lU ^
Tuesday morning. In her bed-toom was
found all her apparel, back-conib, hair-pins,
with large clippings fro|i^ the hair of her
head. From the h o u s e^ ^ e n t s of men’s
and b o f s apparel a
checked summer coai^^j^^^^Mpts. and
a p a i r 'of boots of together
with a light'plaid vest, ^piidiblack cloth cap,
belonging^^ to Mr. N.’s son^ Thusjt ap­pears
that Margaret went out as one of the
“ lords o f creation.” To what purpose her
ambition prompted, is a mystery.
Newburgh T d .
Music.—* There is a tendency in.music,*
says Sir John Hawkins in his History of
Art, ‘ tor excite grave and even devout, as
well.i^^iyely aM mirthful affections, no
one can aoubt. who is not an.absolute stran-
Ser to its efficacy ; and though it may per-aps
be said that the effects of music are
mechanical, and that theiir^an be nothiu|^
pleasing to God in that devotion which-t^-
lows the invf^ontary operation of sound
up.on the httroan mind^—this is more than
can .and the^^ripture seems to,
iudicOTfr‘,rae cpBtoaJS^^^
Qjp- « W^«ll. wife,»>^l*vB bfBB ay[KiMj>lB«t
Judge,” said a loving h&baad^t»liii ** qtfcai*
half.”
» Have you dear ? well, u»i> iliife yws
are Judge, what am. i?**
« The same darned old fool yon always
was,” was the reply,
^— '
A blind fiddler, on crossiiig a narrow
bridge let fall lus ii^trument into the stream
One o f the by-sta^srs, after assisting in
vain for its recovery, told the unfortun^
musician that he pitted his case, •* Oh,
han?.he ’ Us the
( S ^ w a n t .”
Jdr ice C h 'o tis -^ Iifd q )^ e n e e .- -^A .
S n
£ a tall
yoo.”-
v o rs ; lean cateh yotor mfhted old boat
any w a y ^
f '. Efkaph M o Bass “
iTii^rWoir Thaelii
•iv '

I
^ Jittmirg N eioapopet; to ^griciittitrc, aui> ti^tncral 3 n tc ( if g l^ r
W«F. &€r. A BALDWIN, Proprietors. "■ - - HENRI WARD, & d ito r.-^ fe rjn s -^ * $ l'J^ l^«r AnngqiJ
V O LUM E a - -N O . 12. L IT C H F IE L D , (C O N N .) S E P tE M B E R 13. 1849. W H O L E NO; H 6
* ■f
Business €ari>0.
V. R PALMER,
SUBSCRIPTION AND ADVERTISING
•If m iadelphia. New York, Baltmore
and Bosttm.
TfiLEGBAFfl OFFICE,
OF THK
a a tf T t. T e lc s ra p lil.in e .
^IMftwwiiatftoK KBt It all i»m of the Union,
^»*FIC|P AT BALDWliys’ V ariktf SydHE,
LITCHFIELD. CONN.
0 I . !^ £ !R a . G. TO DD ,
vflLttomey & Counsellor a t I*aw,
/V i r ^ C E asXt building >onth of the Mansion
\ / Hooae, up stairt.
JbMfUM, April 5th, 184S. 1^ 42
THGODORE KELLOGG,
dlbtlweey i t Ooansellor a t L aw ,
KENT, CONN. 10
HENRY I. FU IiliiSR,
Jk ttom e y Sl C o u n se llo r a t La-A
iMiaaw nf IWdi for N. y, fifatJ
Sotith Kent, Conn.
E Q R S E W . P E
p n t iW T T
P = »
St n nw a e g l lw
N o ta ry P u b lic ,
fa the (H&ce «T Wilthim I . Borrall, Esq.,
South Canaan, Ct.
■*r-'
R A N D A I i & B E L D E N ,
4 ^ t ; to n i e T S C o u n s e l l o r s a t JL .aw ,
S^ltltnrs in Chancery, Lsnd Agents, &e.
T o x r «gli BilffBt n i^ t ,r . .‘r r tie cobMIs^
host
ferrors of revjp|atiphs. It is au interest of
this latter which draws us to the
Of shining orbs, ’mid seas of splendor lost.
Adorn the vast and boundless space on high.
That forms the azure, bright-bespangled sky.
The Sons of God His Fourth Day’s work pro­claim.
In songs divine, through all ‘ the s ta r ry frame.’
CHORUS.
The Heavens are telling the glory divine.
Of God our Creator ; the wonders th a t shine
grave of Hurli a jj|ace not soon to be for­gotten;
far disitant times will vis­it
it; .and moiiyfizd upon the fate of him
who ehchants S. It wm be known and
frequented whe!^ the mausoleums of good
men hay$ cruijlbled to dust, and their pla­ces
ate known4Ko tnore.
Weenvy tiqk the man who caii unmoved
gaze upon thoigrtfve of Col. Hiirr. It is
one of the mest desolate places that we
have ever seen. There is uo inounient,
pile, or sculpttj^d" marble, standing over it,
to evince the |espect or affliction of a sin­gle
living sout Not even a rough, un­hewn
stone n i^ s the bead or the foot of
him who such sway over the
minds and f«i^ngs of men. Wild grass
and poisonousjleeds form the sod that partly
covers him. Ube rest of the suriace of the
grave is sterile, clay, yielding no verdant
plant or shrubi 'f he stranger treads upon
the spot regar^ it not until he is told that
he stands overithe remains of Burr.
How change^ the scene when from this
unmarked spell we turn to the sleeping
place of the fgtiier of Burr. Over it there
is no tovveribg monument, but there is a
massive tomb 9 one, on which are engraved
the. deeds of ^ e loved and honored. Presi­dent
of New J^sey College. The grave of
the son is oal# designated by Jts being at
the foot of thejather’s. ^
Immediate!J[to the left of President Burr
is the tomb 0® onathan Edward-s. “ Sec-undiis
neminVmortalium” is written on it,
and no one < jnversant with the life and
chal’acter of thi nian, would erase the charac­teristic
inscri|^ion. Still afterward in reg­ular
order ar4 the tombs of Samuel Davis,
Samuel Finlfj',' John Witherspoon, and
Stanhope Stiiiih—each loved in life, lamen­ted
in death, ^ d embalmed in the memory
of a gratefiit ^sterity.
The pro.\imity of Col. Burr to those
loved and duttinguished men, renders his
fate still mot^ melanchoUy. Their unfor-gotten
virtuei makes his vices seem ten-fold
more vicious||
They shuf “o u t the few good deeds o f h is
life, which might u n d e r Other circumstances,
palliate his b |d ones.
, As the ■igsitor stands over the grave,
many scenes in the checkered and ex’entful
life of Burr^ crowd upon his recollection.—
He rememeters the 6 th of February, 1756,
when Burr ^ s t saw that light through which
■fnB8Irect5rt*^Mal led-hfm-to-se-many dfleds
of woe. He calls to mind the death of both
his parents, while the boy was only three
years old ; the handsome fortune that was
bequeathed an orphan son ; the fourth year,
abscondance from his preceptor when too
he was a child of four years growth ; he
ran away from Mr. Edwards for the purpose
of going to sea, while he was inhis eleveuta
year ; and the entrance of Princeton Col-
, lege at the early age of' twelve, where he
Through all His blest works that enchant and graduated at the age of sixteen, taking the
The beautiful firmament brightly displays.
T h e Y o u t b o f C t t r i s f .
A youth appears “ sitting in the midst of
the doctora, both hearing them and asking
questions. All that heard him were aston­ished
at his uiiderstanding and answers.”—
He Comes into the assembly of venerable
sages with a mild and pensive countenance
that seems haunted with earnest thought.—
He is no favorite of earthly fortune, no sci­on
of aristocratic pride, no pet of exclusive
schools, but the simple child of the unsophis­ticated
people steeped to the lips in suffer­ing
; and yet, mightier than the domes that
benti above him. he is for the intellect and
heart of mafl a glorious living temple, built
with the choicest riches of unnumbered
worlds. The first question he propounds
startles ihe attention of all who hear him,
and creates the greatest astonishment in the
most profound, for bis words bear that
charm of immaculate wisdom that can nei­ther
be defaced nor excelled. (Questions
succeed to questions, and learning in des­pair
grows more confused in this, the grand­est
gladiatorship of mind yet witnessed on
earth. Sage after sage, swells with wound­ed
pride and veixation is silenced before
that youth appareled in the plain attire of a
peasant life, radiant with the celestial fire
that emanates from an-aspiring heart, and
bent on throwing open wide the gates of in­struction
to alt. The whole park of artil­lery
which power a*d craft have erected on
their contracted citadels he has spiked, and
like “ a mailed angel on a battle day,” he
rejoices in triumph, not for himself, but for
the sakes of the benighted multitudes
aroti nd. Free thought and fre e discussion
then and there'were born !
GABRIEL, URIEL AND RAPHAEL.
Day unto day the power of speech prolongs.
Night unto night sends forth harmonious songs.
That teach high knowledge; and the word re­sounds
O’e r all the lands, to e arth’s remotest bounds.
Ne’er unperce-ved, but ever understood.
I t speaks the glory and the power of God.
CHORUS.
The Heavens are telling the glory divine.
Of God our Creator ; the wonders th a t shine
Through all His blest works th a t enchant and
amaze.
The beautiful firmament brightly displays.
\End of Part l.J
4lHi0tellonn.
t t o n ,
Y*rk.
- ■i; to
W^Mer Skrained Lam^’OfT,
1 1 ^ quRlUiefc ^
GABRIEL.
And God again commanded : Let the' E a r th
Bring forth the g ra s s ; the herb th a t springs
H e r seed bestowing ; a n d th e f ru i t - t i^ s crown’d
With flruits th a t after their own k ind abound,
seeds are in themselves. All Nature
■ ImMvA, ■
^adk>S throu|^ earth herisndless stores ap4
From the Louisville Journal.
t b e G rav e o f A aron B u r r .
But a few moments have elapsed since
we were standing in ths Princeton Ceme­tery,
giazing on the grave of Col. Aaron
Burr. The last resting place of this dis­tinguished
man impressed us with the
truth, that Ihen impart their own charac­ter
and their own immortality to spots of
earth. There are few places of no more
geographical extent, which call up so many
reflectious, so many associations, so many
recollections.
We know that a saihctity which nothing
can destroy ox justly profane* invests those
places which have been charged with the
ashes of the great and good. But great­ness
and goodness have not always been
united in those men whose names cannot
know oblivion, and whose influence c ^
never cease to be felt. The deeds of the
wicked are as iniperishable as the deeds of
the righteous. A mysterious influence, as
strong as that whiclw binds us the sepul­chres
of the benefactors of mankind, ptten
attracts us to the graves of the jgreat ene­mies
of civil society.
The infliience,. however, is not the saine
in the two cases. It is only siinilar m
strength. We remember with delight the
seasons whose coming has filled the earth
with plenty ; and the principles whose de­velopment
has built up happy coninmni*
ties. But we treasure in b u r * memories,
Vwitb scarce_ le^ interest, the ravages w
^ u in s o f >tiamftdoM, ,and the;
honors of his class, in spite of his moral
character, that evoked much disapprobation.
He reflects upon him as a volunteer in the
American revolution, and a soldiei in the
celebrated expedition oPArnold to Quebw
as an aid to Gen. Putnam, and a conferee
of the title of lieutenant colonel. He follows
him to the study of the law and admittance to
the Albany bar in 1782; to the Senate 1791,
and to second place in high ^ft of the
American people in 1801. He beholds
him the destroyer of Hamilton ; the mise­rable
litigant at the New York bar,; the
reveller in in tolerable licentiousness ; the
intended established of an empire beyond
the great father of rivers, of which he was
to be emperor^ and the C City the
great Capital.- He sees^,^f e ^ l ^ ^ ^ be­fore
the tribunal of his c^^p^^^^pcquit-ted
for want' of that overt-pypo^«hich his
own far stretching cnnning^a^^iveloped
in impenetrable clouds. Aind .fi:nally, he
follows hint from Staten Island, where in
4 oz
iijx
1 qr
yi.r.
C b o l e r a S p e c i f i c s .
We scarcely pick up a paper that does
not contain some pretended new discovery
of preventives or cures of cholera. Many
of them, it may be, are good—but others
are worse than nothing, and the public
ought to be on their guard against them.—
The following, which has been handed to
us, (no matter by whom.) is a good.burlesque
upon some of the pretended specifics.—
We suppcse the recipe, is genuine, coming
as it does from Dr. Lithesplinctumnoncajum
of this place.
RECIPE.
Trton cahiahuooecalhepahe,
Shawnemowetosshawewaughcat,
T okeawechacata,
Tataquaguew*kxquevicosi,
, "Watecvedarijpsuslsoimphikvitus,
'^]\lix well in an ordinary hominy mortar,
and boil 3 days in 4 barrels of water.. Dose
for .an adult, 1 quart every 15 minutes unj
til relieved ; children under ten years of
age, half dose.
A Man B uried A uve !—A painful oc­currence
came to light yesterday, says the
Baltimore Clipper, which created intense
excitement:
“ The remains of the venerable D.-^v-ans
Beese, who died suddenly on Erida^
evening, were conveyed to the Light street
burying-ground, and while they were being
placed in the vault, the hand of ^.lyuuaii
being was discovered protruding.fcpllii poe
of the coffin deposited th^'.
examination, t j^ e pres^nFwere startledrtd
f i^ ^ e hand nrmly • "cleiushed, the'c^ffiii-burst
open and the body tg
over, leaving not.a doiibt tharfhe uhfc^|^
nate i)eing had been buried alii^|^^: * ^
The corpse was that of a resectable man
who died apparently very ^ddenly, and
whose body was placed in the^vault on the
Friday before. It was a harrowing tho’t,
to suppose that he was buried before life
was extinct, but facts leave very little doubt
of it. Truly this is a sad commentary on
hasty burials.
T l i e C i t y o f R o m e .
Rome is siill where it has beea-for more
than 2600 years ; it is upon the Tiber.
16 mile from its mouth, whi^ runs south
the westerern part of the city, and then
turns west, and continues that course to its
outlet, where it is some three hundred feet
wide. Much of what was formerly cbvered
with buildings is now cultivated. This is
particularly the case with much of the south
part within the city walls, and east and
south of the Capitoline Hill. B«d air
(malaria) is said to be the caos& of the deser­tion
of this part of tjb*idty. Thewcient
hills are still to be, foaad» but ara by no
means .so prominent as they ooce were, on
account of the valleys having been filled up
by the rubbish constantly accttmulating in
this way, the plac» of the ancient-fornim
has filled up at least fifteen feet. The land
at the base of the Tarpeian ro ck is sq muck
filled up that the modtiu traveler |s prone to
think that it would be far from certain
death to be thrown from its top. In the
northeast p r t are extensive gardens, and on
the west side of them are the residences of
the English and Americans.
The.palace of the Pope is near the center
of the city. The church of St. Peters is
on the west side ; it is 750 feet long, and
556 wide, and will hold 25,000 people.—
It cost $50,000,000. The statue of St.
Peter stands not far distant. It was for­merly
a staiite of Jupiter, and was changed
by one of the early Popes into that; of the
apostle by some my sterious power, without
changing its material snbstanace in the least
which gave rige to theremsark of the wag
that it was formerly the statue of Jupiter
and it is that of Jew Peter still. The report
that the great toe of this statue js entirely
torn away by the lips of the CathoHcs is
not entirely true. It is a. Fiotestant slan­der.
Yet it is true thatthe repeated kisses
of the faithful for hundreds of y ears have
worn it away considerably. N o Catholic
passes it without stopping to kiss it. To
see poor ignorant people do so, that is bad
enough; but to see men oPlearning and .
science, and of cultivated mindr, like the
Pope and Cardinals constantly appros
ing this image with all r e v e r ed , anc"
ping this toe with their hai "
it, wipe it again, and go on tKSr
beyond endurance.
R ailkoao Accident.—On Monday af­ternoon,
the 12 o’clock train from New
York met i*jth a serious accident abotiC two
liufeT
suddenly thrown off the track, and aft the
cars but one were dragged off after it and
thrlcwn off the embankment wla^ was sevj
eral feet high. '
The accident happened at a i^rt-curve.
The Conductor, expecting another train to
arrive about that time, went forward some
three-fourths of a mile to meet it and warn
it of the accident. He found in several
places at short curves, pieces of tinther se­cure^}
fixed along the track, evidently fo#^
the Mrpose of throwing the ears o ff! The
villir^i who placed the timbers there is ^uiU
ty o f the many murders his diabolical wick^
edness was calculated to cause.
1836, he closed his miserable career, to the?
cemtery at Princeton to be interred with
the honors of war, and to moulder in tfe
dust, upon which the curses of injlsedvi^ae
and the rewards of vicious ambitionsa^^o
rest forever. ■
The life, the death, and the grave of Col.
Burr carry their own moral. The simple
facts tell a tale that needs no comment.-—
Words need not iiiform os, th^t genius, how­ever
transcendent, unless tirtue be one of
its eluents, cannot attain eminence on
which ad" 'Unclouded sun will forever
beam.
A Girl in Troosers.—A bright, bux­om
lass, named Margai«t Richards, from
the village of Rondout last May, who was
a little beyond “ sweet sixteen,** and domi­ciliated
in’the house of Mr. Edward Nixon,
this village, was “ fouud absent,” last
Attrociods Murder at Owego, N. Y .
Yesterday,” (Sunday before last.) says
’the~^inghampton Republican, “ -about 3 o'-
'^ ck , p. m., an Irishman by the name of
7 ^ 1^-i-— , was killed by^ ^'man„ named
0 * ^ , at C^a~?^afia, about h d f a
^ t e s
^ id in ft toasting ia«aMr tKii ^ would
'kill the first A
few minutes a fte rw a^ t S * p 6wed earn#
up, when Giles 7
feet long and felled Mm to ttkewth.
is probably dead before this. Q te|, witli m.
companion ^ywed Bush, fled to. t||B
but were arrested soon after the.nsaii^^f’
a proclamation by the Sheriff! Giles Kve
cated at the time.
S uicide.— The following is an anecdote
of Or. Johnson : —
Boswell once asked Johnson if there was
no posible circumstance under which suicide
would be justifiable.
“ No.” w ^ the reply.
« WelM’ says Boswell, “ suppose a man
•^ad bee^ guilty of some fraujJ that he was
equally iertain woWd be found out.”
“ Why, then,” says Johnson, in thatcase
let him go to some country whe^ he is noW
^nown, and not to the devil wKsre he is
known.” - j
Q:;^ A drunken laborer, recovering from
a dan^rous illness, was asked whether he
had not b e^ afraid of meeting bis God ?
v,No,^said tife poor pagan Christian, “ I was
only o’ t’ other tdiap”
lU ^
Tuesday morning. In her bed-toom was
found all her apparel, back-conib, hair-pins,
with large clippings fro|i^ the hair of her
head. From the h o u s e^ ^ e n t s of men’s
and b o f s apparel a
checked summer coai^^j^^^^Mpts. and
a p a i r 'of boots of together
with a light'plaid vest, ^piidiblack cloth cap,
belonging^^ to Mr. N.’s son^ Thusjt ap­pears
that Margaret went out as one of the
“ lords o f creation.” To what purpose her
ambition prompted, is a mystery.
Newburgh T d .
Music.—* There is a tendency in.music,*
says Sir John Hawkins in his History of
Art, ‘ tor excite grave and even devout, as
well.i^^iyely aM mirthful affections, no
one can aoubt. who is not an.absolute stran-
Ser to its efficacy ; and though it may per-aps
be said that the effects of music are
mechanical, and that theiir^an be nothiu|^
pleasing to God in that devotion which-t^-
lows the invf^ontary operation of sound
up.on the httroan mind^—this is more than
can .and the^^ripture seems to,
iudicOTfr‘,rae cpBtoaJS^^^
Qjp- « W^«ll. wife,»>^l*vB bfBB ay[KiMj>lB«t
Judge,” said a loving h&baad^t»liii ** qtfcai*
half.”
» Have you dear ? well, u»i> iliife yws
are Judge, what am. i?**
« The same darned old fool yon always
was,” was the reply,
^— '
A blind fiddler, on crossiiig a narrow
bridge let fall lus ii^trument into the stream
One o f the by-sta^srs, after assisting in
vain for its recovery, told the unfortun^
musician that he pitted his case, •* Oh,
han?.he ’ Us the
( S ^ w a n t .”
Jdr ice C h 'o tis -^ Iifd q )^ e n e e .- -^A .
S n
£ a tall
yoo.”-
v o rs ; lean cateh yotor mfhted old boat
any w a y ^
f '. Efkaph M o Bass “
iTii^rWoir Thaelii
•iv '